Wolf's Rain: Jus Sanguinis
by Nomee
Summary: SPOILER: Don't read unless you've seen the entire series. Reincarnation - rebirth by blood. Our destinies are controled by it. It is the Rule of Blood - Jus Sanguinis.
1. Chapter 1

08/03/2008 21:01:00

Jus Sanguinis

Chapter One: First Howl

Blood - flowing, gushing, hot and crimson. It resides in all of us, in every living, breathing entity that makes its residence on this slowly turning planet. When we're cut, it drips out slowly and steadily. Our creator - divine, alien, benevolent, or spark of mad science - even endowed us with the wondrous ability to stop the bleeding from a cut or any wound related via platelets that clot our blood. However, something deeper, something bigger, something far more vicious - our creator was at a loss when this obstacle stumbled into view.

So we simply bleed out and die.

But that was when we were animals. We're smarter now, more capable of saving our own hides. But the blood is always there, always capable of rendering us as lifeless as we'd be if we were still barbarians with no tools. We're born and raised by the blood and we eventually die by it, with it, filled with it or empty of it.

Jus Sanguinis - Rule of Blood.

Someone was experiencing this merciless rule, soon to be lost to the world with no resources in which to stem the flow of his life-blood. His mane of shaggy, chocolate-brown hair was wet and matted, plastered to his forehead and face from both precipitation and perspiration. His fever was spiked, one of his body's natural defenses against the infection and bacteria that crept into his system through the open gash in his side. In a vein effort to stifle his loss, his hand was clutched tightly over the wound, holding a bit of clothe in place as a sort of bandage. Teal-colored eyes opened slightly against the fatigue to eye the reddened fabric and the stains on his fingers. It wasn't working, but it was only his first resource. The poor soul needed a tourniquet, stitches, or something further to stop the blood-loss.

With an irritable grunt, he willed his hands to move, straightening the clothe into a long strip, which he then proceeded to wrap about his torso. He was thin enough, made up of long, lean muscles instead of soft, fatty flesh like others of his type he'd seen. His white shirt, dirtied before with wear and tear, was now stained brightly with the substance his body was expelling. He prayed the make-shift bandage would suffice until he could find better resources. Taking one last, steadying breath, the wounded stranger pushed himself to his feet, using the grimy alley wall behind him as his support system. He worked his navy-blue jacket on and zipped it up, hiding his injury and the brilliant scarlet that announced it.

He'd walk it off for as long as he could until he got some help.

The people about him walked as if something in their own little worlds held them completely occupied. Their eyes were straight forward, their noses not held out sniffing the air or crinkled in disgust at the stench in the atmosphere that our injured favorite could so clearly smell. The frigid air around them was thick with the pungent smell of blood, garbage, and leaky gasoline from the ruined automobiles on the road sides. Every breath he took stung his nose and made his lungs ache. He couldn't understand how the people around him could not smell it. If they _could_ smell it, he couldn't understand why they weren't retching in disgust as he felt like doing.

His vision blurred for an instant, the street before him spinning. He stumbled and caught himself, one hand reaching out to steady himself against a nearby wall. His behavior warranted strange looks from passer-by, but he didn't stop to return the favor. So he kept on walking, kept on pacing himself through that miasma of stench and bodies. Dogs, oddly enough, held a strong dislike for him. Most animals did, for that matter. As he walked by a plump woman with a Pomeranian on a leash, the small dog seemed to explode with loud yaps, its entire body quivering with fear and anxiety as it backed closer to its master.

In order to avoid another disturbed look, he kept on until he could go no further. He stumbled into a tavern that was scarcely occupied. There were two men at the bar, hunched over dirty-looking mugs of beer, their wrinkled, sun-ripened faces set in a determined frown. Out of the nine wooden tables that were spaced about the rest of the tavern, only one was occupied. A mocha-skinned man with cropped, silvery hair was seated at the table near the very back, the one furthest away from anyone else. The expression on his face was not visible through the shade of the dark corner. Not wishing to gain the eyes of either of the patrons, the injured male seated himself near a window.

The seat felt like sweet release to his achy body and stiff joints. He felt eighty years older than he actually was. As soon as he was settled, a tired-looking waitress approached him. "What'll it be?" she asked, every word sending a gale of cigarette and alcohol-tainted breath in his direction.

Trying not to make a face, he said simply, "If you don't mind, I'd just like a glass of water." His voice sounded strained and the woman eyed him oddly. Was he that obvious? He twisted his lips in what he hoped was a smile. It seemed good enough because the waitress merely shrugged and turned her back on him, shuffling back to retrieve his paltry order. When she placed the glass of water unceremoniously on the table and left, he heaved a shuddering sigh of relief. Making a motion to take the glass of water in his hand, he hesitated. The water smelled too much like iron. It probably tasted horrible and he had no way of finding out exactly what was in it. Not affording to be picky, he shrugged and took a few sips - swallows - gulps of water.

He'd downed the entire glass before he knew it. Must've been thirsty.

The taste of the water, laced with iron and something fetid like bad tap, stayed on his tongue, coated his lips. He wiped at his mouth with the back of his hand and pushed the glass away. He wondered what illness he'd get from drinking it and if he'd have been better off just ordering a mug of beer.

"You'll want to get something to eat."

The voice came from behind and took our injured stranger by surprise. He made a sudden jump as he half-turned about to face this new persona - only half-turned because the pain in his side quickly reminded him why he shouldn't be making sudden movements. Adjusting himself so that he was comfortable (and didn't look as if he were scared shitless), he replied, "Excuse me?"

It was the silver-haired man from the back of the tavern. Now that he was closer, our character was able to discern his features. He was a young man with a broad-shouldered build with long, lanky limbs. The way he carried himself reminded the male of posture (when he wasn't injured) - aloof yet perfectly able to react on a dime. The other's eyes were a striking shade of golden, holding a feral quality the male had never seen in another person. His denim jacket was worn and adorned with various patches advertising different bands, organizations, or random phrases the injured male knew nothing about.

He smirked. "You should get something to eat - it'll help you heal faster." Without so much as another word, he moved to seat himself in the chair right across from him. There was a pause as the other looked across the table, almost as if waiting for the injured male to say something. But he didn't know what to say. It was the longest, most awkward moment of his life and all he could do was twiddle his thumbs in anxiety. "Well?" said the other.

"...Well what?" The male raised a brow in question.

The other made a gesture to the bar and the tired waitress behind it. "Aren't you going to order? No? Fine - I'll do it. You'll have pancakes, right? They make good pancakes." He whistled and the waitress looked up. When she arrived, the silver-haired male offered a wink and said, "My friend here would like some of Al's good pancakes - lots of syrup. And a refill on the water."

The injured male made to protest on the water, but the waitress smiled, lips stretching and pulling away from her yellowed teeth, and said, "Sure thing, sweetheart." She turned and the "sweetheart" male turned back and folded his hands in front of him on the table top. "Don't worry about the water," he said. "It may not taste good, but it'll sure put some hair on your chest... What's the matter with you? Cat got your tongue? I've never met a wolf who didn't like to howl."

Frowning, the male tried to contemplate what the other had just said. "Wolf?" he said. "You don't even know me and already I've got a nickname? Who are you, anyway?"

The other looked incredulously at the male. He was half-way between a laugh and a question, but he settled for the question. "You're kidding, right? Tell me you're kidding?... Looks like you're not." And he was right - the male offered nothing but a serious look that held no jest. The other sighed and scratched at his head, brows climbing up his forehead in disbelief... of something. "Well, this is a first." He paused and looked over, then extended a hand and shook his without even waiting for it to be offered. "My name is Koga," he said, still shaking his hand despite the male's attempt to remove it. "And you are?"

Suffice it to say the male was hesitant to reveal this information, but he had a feeling that this Koga was not going to let up. "Jin," he supplied simply without any of the introduction of the other. Koga still wasn't letting go of his hand. He and Jin just looked each other in he eye, hands shaking, waiting for the waitress to set down the plate of pancakes in front of Jin. When she was gone, Jin finally said, "Am I going to get my hand back, or you planning on taking it like you took that seat?"

Koga laughed, a bark of a sound, and released Jin's hand. Pushing the plate closer to Jin, he said, "Eat - trust me, it'll help. Don't rush, but don't take forever - we've gotta take care of that bleeding before you're drained of blood. None of these humans can smell it, but every hound like the two of us can tell you're weak from a mile away. They don't have to look at that pale face of yours."

Jin's fork cut into the pancakes and shoveled them into his mouth, eyes never leaving Koga - he didn't quite trust him, especially when he kept calling him a "wolf" or a "hound" or something else canine. And what was all this about "these humans?" The pancake was heavy and gritty, nothing at all like the fluffy confections Jin had tasted in his past. But, in no mood to protest, and realizing just how famished he was, he continued to scarf down the generously provided meal until nothing but crumbs and dregs of sticky syrup were left on the plate. Again he drank the unappealing, slightly tepid water in order to wash down the food that seemed to stick to the lining of his throat. Jin trained his eyes on the glass, on the beads of water dripping down the outside of the cup. He wasn't sure what the next move was going to be. Was Koga going to make him pay the tab? Jin didn't ask for the meal, and water was free.

Without warning, Koga was on his feet, the scraping of the chair against the floor the alert for Jin to look up. His arm was seized as Koga pulled him from the chair and onto his feet. Normally when Jin put up a struggle, he won - he was usually stronger than those around him. But Koga seemed to be just as strong, if not stronger, than Jin. (He merely attributed this to his current physical state.) The grip the taller man had on Jin's arm was tight, like a vice. There would've been pain if Jin hadn't denied himself it. "Hey, what do you think you're doing?" Jin began, but Koga manipulated his body until Jin was standing in front of him, arm pinioned behind his back.

"Don't fight - you'll only hurt yourself more," Koga said, all signs of the smile or laughter out of his face and voice. Evidently he walked out of paying a bill at that tavern a lot, because no one accosted him when he walked out the door with a hostage. He walked with Jin close enough in front and beside him that it looked as if the two were merely walking beside each other - not that the poor Jin was taken against his will. They walked this way for what seemed to Jin a long time. During this time, he took the chance to learn as much as he could from Koga and about him without having to ask him a thing.

He smelled like an animal - canine. But not like a tame dog. His musk was that of the outdoors, of activity and wild strength and ability. His walk was a gentle lope, but the strength in his hand never faltered on Jin's arm. The blood wasn't stopping, and it seemed to be greatly affecting Jin's vision and mobility. Several times he stumbled and swayed. Each time he faltered, Koga held him steady with that one strong hand, pulling him back when Jin's slouched frame threatened to lurch forward.

The scenery began to change. There were less and less people and fewer homes and buildings kept in good condition. The narrow roads and paths were lined with run-down or abandoned buildings and warehouses. Stray dogs and cats snuck away in alleys at their approach. He wasn't sure where this man was taking him and he wasn't liking it.

"Enough already," he barked, tearing himself rudely from Koga's grip. The effort jerked his arm painfully and he stumbled against a wall, clutching his shoulder and slumped from the pain in his abdomen. He struggled to regain his breath, brow knitted together in the effort to stay conscious. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

Koga paused and the look on his face almost made Jin panic. He then smiled, however, and moved to sit on a stack of wooden crates across from Jin. "Just thought I'd get you out of the public eye - you need to recover and you can't do much of it in that form. So..." he gestured towards Jin expectantly.

Jin couldn't believe what he was hearing. "What the hell are you talking about?" he snapped, sliding down to the ground. "What form? I only have one - what do you think I am?"

"Christ, don't you know anything?!" snapped Koga, hands on his knees as he leaned forward. "What do I have to do to convince you? You're not a human - you're a wolf." Jin shook his head in disbelief, muttering something about Koga being crazed. "Crazed?" replied the other. "Look, Jin - how many times have you noticed you're not like everyone else? Haven't you ever noticed that you were stronger than anyone else? Faster? That your senses were fifty-times better than anyone around you? I'm not sure how you managed to stay in human form for so long without having any knowledge of your wolf skin."

"Easy," said Jin. "Because I'm - not - a - wolf! How many times do I have to tell you?"

Koga's jaw was clenched, brows furrowed and eyes stern. He got up and approached Jin, who cringed slightly as he got closer. The wolf-lover grabbed him by the front of the jacket and pulled him roughly to his feet, face close. His golden eyes were so intense, so.. inhuman. Heart thumping madly, Jin became unsteady, the things before him spinning. "Listen," Koga said, never lessening his gaze. His face looked as if it shifted. "Can you hear it?" Those hues - bright gold set in black-lined, narrow eyes. "Hear the howl." His teeth - did he have fangs? A snout? "Hear it! Answer it!" Things started to grow dark and Koga's face vanished between stages of darkness. "You have to answer the call." During the darkness, a silvery-grey wolf was staring him down, the sound of a strangled howl in Jin's ears. Was it his? "Your life depends on it."

Too much blood was lost and Jin soon lost consciousness.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two: Wolf Skin

Running... running... Jin's padded feet struck the bare earth at break-neck speed. His ears were flat against his skull, lean muscles rippling under his wolf skin, under the brilliant white fur that covered it. There was nothing around him but cold, the ground covered by a blanket of snow, drifts floating from the steel-grey sky. Why was he running? He was looking for something. What was he looking for?

Jin was awake. His vision was blurred, light-headed as he tried to focus on what he was looking at. There were breaks in the roof of whatever building he was in. The sky, light-grey in color, spread vastly above him with thin clouds and signs of tall pine trees surrounding the building. It took him a moment to recollect his thoughts and bearings - where was he? What happened to...?

He jolted upright, oceanic hues wide in shock - then squeezed shut in pain. His hand reached for the wound at his side, expecting to feel the torn bit of cloth and the open wound. However, that wasn't what he found. He looked down at his torso to discover that someone had taken the time to treat his wound. Clean white bandages were wrapped about his torso, gauze covering the wicked wound. His jacket, the shirt removed to easily tend to the wound, had blanketed Jin while he was unconscious. Feeling much better now that he wasn't slowly being drained of blood, he took the opportunity to look around him.

He was lying on a slab of concrete, a section of the wall beside him that had been knocked over. The sounds of nature were coming from everywhere and there was no trace of the city he'd been in before. The windows of the old ruins were mostly glassless, vines and sometimes tree branches having grown through them. The sun streamed through the breaches in the ceiling and created dappling effects on the earthen floor. It felt warm on his skin…

"It's about time you woke up."

Jin turned sharply at the familiar voice. Immediately he was on guard as Koga strode in, one arm carrying a cardboard box at his side. He smirked. "Take it easy, will ya? I just patched you up – don't make the wound reopen. That'd be annoying." He walked over and Jin worked himself into a sitting position, long jean-clad legs hanging over the edge of the slab. "Here," Koga said, reaching into the box and producing something white, which he tossed to Jin. "Put it on – I had to throw the other one away. It stank of blood."

Jin took the provided shirt and pulled it on over his head. Once he'd shrugged on his jacket, he asked, "Am I right to assume you dragged me all the way out here to threaten me and then treat my wounds?"

Koga frowned. "Threatened you?" Jin raised his brows. "…Oh, you're talking about that scene back in the alley before you punked and passed out. I wasn't threatening you – trust me. If I threatened you I doubt you'd be sitting here today."

"Today…" Jin said, running a hand through his mane of hair. "…How long was I out?"

The silver-haired male shrugged. "Almost a day – you lost a lot of blood, so I wasn't surprised." He then laughed. "Did you know you talk in your sleep?" Jin was taken aback. "Yeah, sounded like you were having a running dream – kept talking about how you 'had to find it,' whatever 'it' is." He paused, watching the expressions pass over Jin's face as he tried to recall any of what he dreamt. "You have this dream a lot, don't you?" asked Koga, setting down the box as he began to rifle through it. "You were howling, you know…"

Jin shook his head. "No… I couldn't have been… I do have the dream a lot – every day, for that matter. It's just a dream… right?" He looked up at Koga with a half-smile, as if waiting to see or hear some sign of reassurance from the other that would pull the other half of his smile up as well. Koga offered nothing, however. He just sat there, solemnly rummaging through the box. "…I can't be a wolf and not know about it, Koga – I can't. I look fairly human, after all," he added, holding out his hands as if to prove the fact.

Koga picked a packaged sausage from the box (evidently it was filled with food) and tossed it to Jin before producing another packaged food product for himself. "Eat," he said. "Get your strength back. Then I'll show you – I'll show you everything. But," he was on his feet and moved over to sit beside Jin on the slab. "Tell me everything – where you come from, how you were raised. Everything up until that wound of yours, and I can't wait to hear how that happened."

Hesitant, Jin picked at the packaged food as he mulled over what Koga had just asked him. "I don't… remember everything," he said. "I was born alone, I was told. I can only remember back to when this woman found me… I was still young then. She raised me in a town that… well, no longer exists. She was very kind, but always afraid of something. I always thought it was me she was afraid of, and I still do. She was always telling me not to be alone, not to run by myself. The people in the town didn't like her raising me – they said I was some sort of demon child. I couldn't understand what they were talking about, until…" His fists were clenched tightly, his knuckles turning white – the memory haunted him for what felt like an eternity. "I didn't mean to do it – to kill those other boys… Against her wishes, I'd gone out into town by myself. Evidently the youths found it amusing to corner me away from the public eye and host their own persecution. The adults were outraged, but I told them – I told them I was only trying to protect myself. That's all. I thought they were going to kill me and… I don't know what happened. One minute I was huddled against the wall, the next I was seeing red. I thought I'd turned into some kind of animal – that's the only way I could explain to myself how I managed to cause so much damage…"

His eyes flickered over to Koga, as if expecting to see some form of ridicule or disbelief in his face. But there was none – he simply sat listening intently, brow furrowed in concentration. He never interrupted or offered any remark – Jin was wondering if he was even listening.

"And?" Koga said. "What happened next?"

So, he was listening. "I couldn't stay there," he continued. "I tried to leave, but my 'mother' insisted I stay – she said she could protect me. In the end, she needed to be protected. I tried – I thought I'd become an animal again, I tried so hard. But in the end, the townspeople won. They were angry, after all – it's hard to fight an angry mob by your self. They killed her… and I couldn't stop it… They were going to kill me, but I escaped… I lived on my own since then. People act strangely around me wherever I go, as if I could never escape what I'd done. I've never stayed in one place for long, but not because the people didn't like me. I just… can never bring myself to stay in one place for too long. It's stifling. I came here, hoping to stay for a few weeks." He laughed, a bitter sound with no humor in it at all. "People here will only help you if you have money," he said. "Unfortunately for me, I had none and that seemed to make people angry. Did you know there's some triad in this city? They extort money out of anyone and everyone who enters and leaves. I didn't have anything to give them, so," he gestured towards his side where the wound was healing.

Koga was still wearing his listening face, expecting more. But Jin shrugged, announcing the end of his tale. Koga smirked and tossed the wrapper of his make-shift meal over his shoulder – when exactly he'd finished it was beyond Jin. "That's quite a story, Jin," he said, getting to his feet. He stretched a few times and rotated his arms. "Now," he continued, looking over his shoulder at Jin, "finish eating. I'm impatient." Jin hadn't touched the food Koga had given him. In order to stifle the man's impatience, Jin tore away the wrapped and consumed the meal. He'd only just finished before Koga took the remnants and chucked them away the same way he'd done with his own. "Let's go," he said, pulling Jin by the jacket sleeve to his feet.

"Where to?" Jin said, pulling his arm free of Koga's grip once again. "This place isn't secret enough for you, or what?"

"Too open," he said in reply. "The forest should provide more cover."

Jin nearly choked on his words. "Forest? You dragged me all the way near the forest? For what?"

Koga didn't say anything. He merely chuckled and waved his hand as he walked from the ruined structure and into the stand of trees. Evidently, Jin had nothing left to do but to follow. They walked for some distance, the sunlight filtering through breaches in the canopy and lighting their path. They walked on until the forest grew so thick that no sunlight could reach them. Any sign of civilization was long gone. Jin was just about to open his mouth and question his trail-blazer friend once more when Koga stopped and turned to face Jin. Impatient, Jin crossed his arms and said, "What? No ancient temple to show me? I was beginning to think we'd reenact 'Indiana Jones.'"

The other smirked. "I'll show you that you don't have to look like a wolf to be one," he said.

Jin's teal eyes watched lazily at first, thinking this man to be completely off his rocker. There was a thump from his heart as it skipped a beat and his hues grew wide, pupils dilating in shock as a wolf's howl pierced the dense quiet of the forest. His fingers automatically clutched at the bark of the tree at his back as panic overtook him. He was no longer looking at Koga. A grey wolf was standing in his place, ears perked and expectant. His flanks were powerful, quivering with excitement. Jin had the impression that the beast was about to pounce. An X-shaped scar adorned his chest, a badge of experience on the creature's history. It was looking straight at Jin and something inside the man was struggling to respond.

He didn't wait to see what would happen. He turned and ran, dirt kicked up behind him. Whatever was inside of him was fighting, howling, commanding him to stay and face this beast. Jin was going to have none of that, however. He was frightened for a reason he couldn't explain. His heart pounded in his temples, his throat – it throbbed throughout his entire body to a tempo that was not his own. His mind could only question what he just saw. What was he? Man or beast? The thing that was threatening to explode from Jin howled its response – he was what he always thought he was.

A wolf.

There was the sound of a growl, some thrashing, and Jin was on his back, the great bulk of the wolf on top of him. The beast's muzzle was crinkled and pulled back to reveal vicious fangs. He wasn't going to let him run? Jin's eyes were wide in panic, adrenaline rushing through his body as he dared not move with the beast still pinning him down. Looking at his feral eyes revealed something he didn't want to know.

Jin thrashed, bucking and throwing the wolf off of him. He rolled away and got to his feet. At least he thought it was his feet – for some reason he was on all fours. He was growling vehemently at the grey wolf, which simply sat back on its haunches and waited. Jin didn't know what the wolf was waiting for – a howl in reply? He wasn't going to get it. Jin's throat was soar from holding back the cry of the beast inside of him. He looked down at his hands – they were paws. He tried in vein to look at his body, but found he had to turn his head to the side and stare down a white muzzle at the tail end of a white wolf. The growl in his throat soon became a confused whine as he turned about on the spot. What had he turned into? He stopped to look back at the grey wolf that sat twenty paces away from Jin.

_You are a wolf, Jin._

Jin froze, quivering with anxiety and panic. The voice seemed to come from the grey wolf, but the beast made no movement that would signify speech. It was Koga's voice – the beast was Koga? Jin's voice came out as a mixture of a whine and a growl – nothing remotely intelligible. Or remotely human. Koga seemed to understand his guttural form of speech, however.

_Don't fight it – suppressing your true self will only bring you harm._

Jin let out a snarl in protest, though it lacked the conviction.

_You have to learn to control yourself in wolf skin. Let it out – howl._

The white wolf's entire frame was quivering with the effort to control himself. His hackles were raised in duress until finally he let loose the howl. It ripped from his throat, a mighty cry filled with all the tension, anxiety, fear, and sorrow Jin kept pent up inside himself. It stretched out long and audibly, filling Jin's body and nearly the entire forest, announcing his presence in wolf skin. When finally his body could no longer fuel the howl, he sat back, snout still raised to the forest canopy, and listened as the howl reverberated throughout the forest. It died out, leaving nothing but a haunting feeling in its wake.

"You see?" Jin looked back at Koga, seeing the male in his human form. Colors were lost to him in this canine form, but the other male's eyes were still as vivid as before. "You aren't a human. You're not like everyone else. That's why those people in your old town hated you so. That's why the woman feared you and never let you run alone. She feared the wolf inside of you, desperate to keep the child-like human form and not the cub." Jin's wolf legs gave out from beneath him and he settled on the mossy earth. "Rest now," continued Koga as Jin's snout rested on the leaf-litter.

"Tomorrow's going to be a big day."


End file.
